


Love War and Life

by Escritora2Aliasfox



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Harry Potter References, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 07:10:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9872891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Escritora2Aliasfox/pseuds/Escritora2Aliasfox
Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley meet at Howarts while being kids, but they have a long way to go...





	1. First impresions are important

He was just 11 years old when he was sent to Howarts. And boy was he glad. He was given everything needed from the best shops, including an owl* He jumped to the train as fast as his family let him go and so, found a perfectly isolated cabine to sit by the window and wait for the train to start moving.

Little after the train finally did start to move, of course, some distracted slowpoke knocked into his cabinet.  
It was a chubby kid his age, with blond curls and glasses. He seemed a bit older, but he was from first year, like him.

“excuse me” He said “everything else is occupied, can i…” “why not?” Crowley spoke in a sarcastic tone, but the other didn’t seem to take it as bad, wich kind of amused him.  
“my name is Aziraphale” he introduced himself. Crowley tilted his nose. “sounds like an angel’s name” “and you?” “Crowley” he automaticly replied. When he got to howarts he would be automaticly associated with his brothers he liked it or not.  
“I am kind of nervous. Are you not? I wonder how is the castle inside…” Crowley shook his shoulders. “where would you like to go in the houses?” asked the other kid.

“oh, that’s no question. Slytherin**” He said. “I think I like more Griffindor…” “you can’t choose it, you know? They put you where you have to be” The other paled a little bit. Crowley found it funny. “but my father says…” “Some fathers don’t like where theyr kids are. My cousin got kicked out ‘cause he ended up in a looser’s house”

The chubby kid lowered his eyes. He didn’t know if this was true, but if it was, was he more worried for himself, or for that poor boy from the other’s family? Crowley decided to change a little the matter. “we are all slytherings. Thats what we are. No ones out of there”

Aziraphale looked at him. His father had said Slytherin was an untrusty house, and that he should stay away from there. Yet this kid in front of him was happy and proud to be one of them… even before getting there.

The selection was not how Crowley had expected it. The damn hat thing had spoken to him! Right on his ear, like it was reading his mind, and it was confusing! “you could be a hufflepuff, but also a ravenclaw, yes, you could be one fine ravenclaw…” “no” he had nearly squeaked “no I can’t be a ravenclaw” “of course you can. See…” “no! please, don’t you dare! Im an Slytherin!” “hum… I see, there is also good material for that, but, are you sure? I think you would fit better at…” “definetly no. I’m a Slytherin. Period”…

“Slytherin!!” shouthed, finally, the thing. And Crowley released, finally a long holded breath. Later on, he would have so many doubts… by now, he was walking past the kid from before.   
He ended up in Hufflepuff, and also seemed confused.

 

*because if he had to own a pet it better be something usefull so he starts learning to do by himself, according to his mother.  
**He was not worried for ending up in a house wich was not Slycering because, come on. All his family was there, and everyone had insisted so much that, honestly, where else could he end up?


	2. Chit chat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley made friends and now he makes a victim

Crowley fited easily in Slythering with his brothers, some cousins and other kids. Many of them, (him included) formed a ‘band’ and they could have fun teasing the other kids, but no one could dare to bother them. Crowley enjoyed some jokes, and he himself was known for quite heavy teasing himself: tricks quite elavotated, thou with simple results, such as making all the food in a line of one of the tables loose taste, or make the studients of one class perceive sounds very low, so they couldn’t hear the teacher… of course, some tricks were more complicated than others, but he got better with time, as he scalated on his studies.

He didn’t usually participated on the most hardcore jokes: tricking a broom or a bludger to behave out of control was actually dangerous, and he himself had suffered the cruelest jokes from his brothers… also, there was one joke roaming around the castle, rollin in the lips of every single student, wich was too easy to put to use: Hufflepuffs are loosers.

“I came in the train with a Hufflepuff” he told the others once “he wasn’t a Hufflepuff jet, he wanted to be a Griffindor” the Slytherings around him bursted into laughter.  
“he wanted to be a Gryffindor AND he coulnd’t even? He got stuck in Hufflepuff?”*  
“who’s that looser, Crowley?” “yeah, did you see him again or he is too ashamed to look up?”  
“hahaha…!” Crowley thoug. He had seen him again: he would walk around with the Hufflepuff scarf in cold days, like he wasn’t actually ashamed of it, but he did like to read, and so he didn’t usually rise his sight from some book.

“Aziraphale” the name came out easily, casually, as it didn’t really mean anything “he seems to like books…” “oh wait” one of them said “so, he is a bookworm, and he couldn’t even make it to Ravenclaw either?” “he’s asking for a visit from his old travel buddy Crowley!” someone else said. Before Crowley could react, he had automatically been ‘asigned’ to prank Aziraphale.

“what are you gonna do to him? Got any ideas? What did you speak of in the train?...” Nerea was asking him after the chat with the others, while they headed towards the Hufflepuff place.  
“dunno” he answered absentmindly. Nerea was close, but she was quite a bother sometimes** with all her chit chat, Crowley and Nerea reached the corridor in front of the Hufflepuff rooms while he still had no plans. So he just stood there trying to think, while she made casual questions. Then, after a few minutes, a group of Hufflepuffs came across a corner, and Aziraphale was one of them. “look, keep talking to me, and come next to me. I’m gonna try something” he told her, and walked straight up to Aziraphale, who was walking while reading something. Crowley prepared himself, and, while passing by, pushed him with his shoulder. It was such a blow, Aziraphale fell awkwardly, his book messed far by, and Crowley himself felt the blow on his shoulder.

Nerea was laughting already, but Crowley wasn’t finished. He was teasing.

“I’m so sorry!” he said and asked the boy if he needed help, but without helping him up. Aziraphale mumbled an excuse, heading towards his book. Crowley took it right when Aziraphale almost had it in his hand, took a look at it, made sure to close it with some pages crumpled, and gave it back pretending politeness… but when the chubby boy was taking it, he didn’t let go.

“wait, your face looks familiar…aren’t you…? Yes! You are Aziraphale! Do you remember me?”  
Aziraphale adjusted his glasses. “oh, yes. You are that kid from the train. Eh… Crowley”  
“yes! That’s me. Nice to see you so… so… well! Hufflepuff, eh? Good house! Well, nice to… to see you. See you again” And so he left, leaving Aziraphale confused, and kept walking with Nerea giggling by his side.

“what was that about? Why were you nice to him?” Crowley gave her a snake smile “I wasn’t. I’m not done playing with him”

 

*according to popularity ranks among the Howarts houses it goes like this:  
1rst place, Slythering, The most daring and of influent families, closely followed by Griffindor 2nd due to competence with the Slytherings. Ravenclaws are ofthen 3rd place due to the fact that they don’t enter the competition, but usually can defend themselves with theyr knowledge in magic skills. …Hufflepus is left out of the 3 first ranks, as they are usually nice and distracted people who don’t like to bother anyone.  
**Nerea Black was a beautifull, very popular girl who had stuck to Crowley like they where besties. This is due to the fact that she loved to chit chat about everyone else’s problems, and Crowley was, apparently, an inagotable source of entertaining***  
***Plus, Nerea and Crowley both belonged to pureblooded families from the sacret 28 list, and both theyr parents were very interested on theyr friendship. As fast as someone had mentioned in a letter back home, that they seemed to be catching up fine, Crowley was doomed to make friends with her.


	3. kids will be kids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is a little bastard, and aziraphale is no less

Crowley sat across from Aziraphale once, and pretended to start a friendly conversation. But every time the other would speak, he would interrupt with a coffing or starting speaking… Then, he spilled his burning coffe on the other’s book, and said it was an accident…

That’s when Aziraphale snapped. He closed the book, picked up his things, told Crowley he was a jerk, and not a funny one, and walked away. Crowley laughted at how pissed he had been, but, the nex times he had tried to run onto the chubby boy in throu the castle, he saw him and avoided the collision. Even ignored him when he tried to stop him to talk, and left whenever Crowley sat next to him. The slitherin boy was starting to get bored of the chasing game: he wanted to go back to the teasing. He hadn’t even gone so harsh on him in the first place! So once he just cornered the other and started apologizing. Aziraphale listened with a calm face and waited ‘till he was done. Then he said: “do I look stupid to you?” “uh… what?” “look, just because I am polite, and I like books, that doesn’t make me stupid. You are one of those mean slithering boys who enjoy picking others for fun and for some reason you choose me for a chew toy. Well, I’m not falling for it” Crowley took a few moments to decide his next move. He hadn’t expected it, but he had been discovered, and there was no way lying out of this.

“okay” he said, and pushed Aziraphale to the ground, ripping the book out of his hands “guess I can tease you honestly now” he walked up to the nearest window and signaled for the book to be thrown thru. “put that down instantly!” “oh, I will” he said “but you say you are sorry, and you wanna be my friend” “give me back my book right away o…” Crowley threw the tome, and walked away with a smile. He had a lot of planning to do for this new game.

The rest of first year, Crowley spended it pranking Aziraphale alone, and it became the Slytherins favourite theme at lunch… that is, unti’l Aziraphale started atually defending himself! Then, it was the entire hall chatting about it like it was the whether.  
“He is getting good at this” once mentioned one of Crowley’s colleages “You can’t let that happen” and other would offer “do you need any help?” 

But Crowley laughted it off and refused… it was personal.  
He had to take it back…and he was taken back thru the course of the whole year!   
They both got surprise presents for Christmas* and they both had a little surprise for Halloween** By the end of the course, both were expecting something big before leaving the castle for vacations. It was a special occasion!

… One discovered all of his books where gone. “uh” he said to himself “of course” and he was kind of disappointed when he managed to get them back more or less easily after a few hours of search and researching a few spells for lost things. 

The slytherin boy expent the last days looking around very carefully, fearing anything to jump onto him, but nothing came, and he left with an odd feeling in the train, like something was missing. That is, until he got home and tried to show his father what he had been teached a flying class: his broom had been tricked. “oh, that’s more like it” he said for himself, while holding onto the broom stick for dear life, while it went up higer and higer in the sky, no idea when or how to get back.

 

*Aziraphale, a box of chocolates that left his tounge asleep, and Crowley a pair of socks that forced him to dance to exhaustion.  
**Crowley had to deal with a howler singing to him every sticky Halloween song Aziraphale kew, while Aziraphale was chased by a barking pumpink.


	4. not thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale was not the only victim of bullying in his own case

Aziraphale fell to the ground with a dry thud. It wasn’t even necessary a spell: a snowball got him right in the temple, and with the ice in the ground he just crashed hopelessly with all of the books and the small cauldron he was carrying. A group of teenages his same age passe by laugthing, all slytherings, Crowley was clearing his hands of the snow.

“be carefull, Aziraphale, you could cause an earthquake” And they all laughted again. The Hufflepuff sat up with a defying glare. “It wouldn’t be nearly as dangerous as the lot of you. But specially you” And he stood on his knees, picking up books.

The other group just couldn’t help it. Crowley turned around, with the theatrical way he had, which made him very persecuted by Slithering girls and an authentic tragic crush for everyone else in the school. He tilted himself forwards, a little.

“you offend me, dear. I`m sure I am not so bad” Aziraphale ignored him while wiping away the snow and some wet dirt of his books. “he asked you something, Zira” Said Nerea, with a playfull tone “it would be unpolite not to reply” “oh you do know about unpolitness, don’t you, darling” The hufflepuff kept gathering his things.

Crowley had to keep his play of a love interest for that girl, and a higher status, so he slowly presed one foot on top of one of the books. Aziraphale tried to get it back, but Crowley’s perfect and expensive boot was crushing it strongly.

He lowered a bit more, towards the boy kneeling in front of him.  
   
“if you are insinuating something now that I can not tolerate. Maybe I should give you a demonstration of proper behaibour, to prove my good intentions”

Aziraphale held his graze, not letting himself be impressed. After three years, they both where used to the constant struggle of forces. He smiled widely.

“oh, I’d love to get a proof of your best try, mister” Crowley made sure to move his foot, crushing the book beneath it further, and damaging the old cover, while looking down at the blond. He was planning something, and he had a bad sensation. “oh really? Then I’ll plan something special” “yeah, I’d love to see your best for the next three days”

Crowley was now puzzled. “three days? How come? Is it an special ocassion?”  
“didn’t you hear?” one of the Slitheryn boys behind him sayd with a smirk “He’s finally noticed he’s not good enough for this place, and he is leaving…probably to sell second had books somewhere else” The others laugthed it of, but Crowley was suddenly serious, his foot no longer so firm, and Aziraphale could snatch the poor thing back into his cauldron, wipe it a bit, and get up.  
“well. News fly don’t they? I will be willing to see your GOOD BYE present, Crowley” He patted Crowley’s shoulder as he passed by, and still the boy didn’t move. Aziraphale left, and the group of 3rd year students murmured of how rude that was, and why Crowley didn’t say nothing, but they knew he would get him back… 

Crowley just turned around and watched the chubby teen walk away, processing the new information.  
He was thougfull the whole way back, listening to the comments of his partners, thinking of horrible reasons why the young man was leaving and worst destinations, but specially farewell pranks. Cruel ones. Such as destroying all of his books to make sure he left with little weight, or giving him something to make him terrible ill right the moment he left. Crowley was just thinking, and the odd thing was, he didn’t know what he was thinking. He was just confused.

He planned a thousand ways to prank that stupid… little perfect angel and this time he actually did it with the intention of damage… and he didn’t accomplish any.

In the course of the next three days his verbal abuse became harsher, and when the other ignored him, or managed to response, he just got so angry, he ended up pushing the boy down the stairs. In that moment the stupid thing was, of course, moving, and Aziraphale rolled down ‘till he was able to hold himself dangerously close to the edge. Some of his things fell to lower stairs, and his cape nearly got caught when the stupid thing finally reached its new destination.

Crowley was pale. Kids around where murmuring nerviously. The blond boy got up, checking his state and his belongings. Withouth thinking, Crowley rushed down to his level, and held one book for him.   
The Hufflepuff boy did a very un-charestic thing for a Hufflepuff: he took the book and hit Crowley across the face with it.  
“YOU ASSHOLE!” he hisshed with the angriest face Crowley had seen him make, and he walked away, limping. Crowley was left alone, crouched in the stairs, studienst walking up and down around him, wishpering. He stood like this until the stairs moved again and he had to recalculate his route.  
Aziraphale left. And when he did, Crowley watched with his friends, and said good-bye with the last smirky rude coments. 

“what did you do to him, Crowley?” asked Nerea “Come on, you said you where working on it, is it not going to happen now?” Crowley lowered the poison in his tounge when he spoke.  
“you won’t see it. It is meant to explode next time he opens his case”*  
They all laughted, and as the train left, Crowley turned around, and walked up the path, and the hill, and as he did he felt quite…empty** 

Without thinking, he started walking hurriedly, and then running, and he reached the castle and rushed up the stairs, changing his route just half a minute to inboque his broom from his field-loker. He run and run until he was breathless, and then, when he found a tall, wide window he could open, no one around to look, he jumped throu perched on his broom, and flew making a beeline for the train, avoiding the station and the curve.

He catched the damned thing thanks to said curve and he had to press his magic energy like never before to hold up to it, and concentrate in order to posicionate himself next to one window, and the next, and the next, checking one by one to see if Aziraphale was there, and he knew if he didn’t find him, he would exaust himself nearly to death while catching up on the other side, repeating the process… but it wouldn’t be necessary! Aziraphale was sitting next to one of the windows, resting his head on one hand, against the glass.

He flew closer, and kept balance altoghether with everything else while tapping in the glass. Aziraphale looked up and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw none other than Crowley flying next to his window, in what looked like a very desperate and risky ride.  
He stood on the seat and hurried up to lower the top of the window as much as he could, an Crowley very carefully clung to it and started slicering one arm, and his head, and half his chest throu it…  
Luckyly he was skinny, but still Aziraphale panicked and casted an accio spell on him, dragging him all the way in, and making him fall roughly on himself.

“what in the name of the heavens are you doing…!?” They both struggled to get up, and Crowley stumbled before letting himself fall in one of the seats.  
“you could’ve got yourself killed!!” Crowley’s breath was caught, and his face was sweaty, and you could easily notice the red thru his dark tan. Not to mention the mess his hair was, sweat and wind and fall counted. “what where you thinking!?”

Crowley got back his breath. He then noticed what he had done, and yes, it was prwtty stupid, but now there was no use waving it off.

“i…needed to talk to you” “…but you did. In the station. With your friends” he denied with his head. “I couldn’t tell, ‘cause they where there.” Aziraphale stood still, thinking.   
“oh. Well. What could it be, then?” Crowley took a deep breath, and another one. Not for the exhaustion this time, but for how difficult it was to find words now.  
“i… I am sorry. I mean, …I didn’t… I wasn’t thinking, back there, when… in the stairs”  
“…you are apologizing, for pushing me in the stairs?” Crowley nodded, but them denied again, and then gulped and cleared his throat, still searching for words.  
“I have allways been mean to you, but I had never done that. I didn’t mean for… you to get hurt. Not for real” Aziraphale seemed to understand. “okay. You went too far there. That’s true. I have nothing broken thou” Crowley nodded and denied again, more energic.  
“that’s good… no no no. I, ah. Its not only that. …” he got up and fidgeted with his hands alone.  
“I am sorry, for everything. I was quite… I mean. Im sorry”

Aziraphale was downright shocked. He tried to put the pieces together, but it just felt like a crueler than ever prank was about to fall on him. That made more sense.

“you are sory… for the three years you spent teasing me?” “aha” “…and humiliating me, and spoiling my things…” “yeah. …I am” “and what about that time i… walked into the bathroom, and there was rimes and insults with my name written all over the walls?” Crowley looked up, suddenly very stiff. That time had been quite special***. No wonder they both remembered well.

“yeah, that too? You are sorry now?” Crowley went back to fidgeting, and paced, and sat back down.  
“I didn’t mean to. I really… look. I had to do it. Remember, at first, when it was just teasing? Nothing too bad? Remember?” “yeah. First and second year, before the bathroom thing”  
“I liked you. I had nothing against you. The others wanted me to prank you and I did just like a game. It was just a stupid game. Until you started to play back, and everyone was whispering, and my brothers got angry with me!”  
“…your brothers?” Crowley caressed his sweaty face, and his hair. Aziraphale had never seen him so… worried? Scared? “They…they said I was letting you humiliate me, and that was to flaw the name… and and Dagon sent a letter to my father!” Crowley’s voice started to sound very altered, maybe a bit broken. “my father!! He is..he…!! I was terrified!”

And this was quite a bomb of new information. Shit. Aziraphale tried to think throu it all, and he just could not.

“so now you are the victim. Oh well, then I guess I can forgive you for being a jerk, like your brothers and forget the humiliation, and the years of insults, and the whole Slytherin house on me…!” Crowley denied pitifully.   
“no. no is no excuse. I was stupid. And coward. And am just sorry. I understand you wont forgive me. I just…” he sighed. There was a pause.  
“I only wanted you to know, before you leave, that I’m sorry, I never really meant it, and… ah. …I actually liked you. I hoped we could’ve been friends”

Now there was silence again. A long one, only interrumped by the sound of the train taking them further away from the castle so fast.

Aziraphale sat down in front of him.

“for all I know this could be a prank that will explode on my face anytime soon”

Crowley thoug in silence.  
“why are you leaving?” “… its an exchange program with Ilvermorny, in America. I will be back, probably” “next year?” “no. the year after, probably. I just had to leave soon… for reasons”  
Crowley looked down. He hoped that he was not one of those reasons. He probably was.  
“…I will kind of miss you. It just wont be the same” “oh, you can tease someone else, just try not to go too far again, and your friends…” “it wont be the same. There is no one like you”  
There was another silence. It seemed like Crowley was confy and didn’t quite want to leave, even if he would have to get all the way back. Aziraphale feared he would be waiting for him to do something, and ended up doing the logic thing: he reminded him he had to go, and Crowley did get up with a shy manner wich didn’t quite fit him but felt real. He left without adding anything but a shaky ‘Bye’ and Aziraphale was alone.  
… so he did get out the carriage, and followed Crowley silently, to the end of the wagon, where he was ready to jump... and Aziraphale told him to be carefull. …  
And giving him his owl mail direction was just a terrible mistake he knew he would regret.  
The way Crowley’s face lightened up was worrying. Would he use it against him? He was just smiling so broadly when he flew away…

 

*That was a lie. He hadn’t been able to decide what to do, and he had done nothing. But that lie would be enough to cover for his image. Actually, his job was now, definetly done.  
**And lonely, for some reason. Maybe it was the fact that all his friends seemed happy that Aziraphale was leaving, and he was not.  
***It took one week to make the letters disappear. They couldn’t catch Crowley officially, but the case was severy mentioned at the dining hall. In Howarts, to humiliate someone, specially in the bathroom was still called to “Zira” someone. And some of the most catchy rimes where still used around the corridors and specially in the bathrooms.


	5. pieces of honesty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale wonders if Crowley has unhonest palns with his letters

Aziraphale feared he would get a howler as son as he arrived home. …but he didn’t.

Instead, he got a small note, a few days later.

“if you replay, then I will know this was the right address”  
A.J.C.

Aziraphale wondered for a moment what where the first acronyms, but then a larger worry got to him: knowing the twisted bastard, this could still be a joke. So he made sure to research a spell that would protect his mail address from unwanted letters in case Crowley dared to send one single howler, and then, he replied.

The howler never came. Crowley would not write for weeks and then send him a simple letter with some funny things that had happened to him, or dreadfull things, or asking for help if something was complicated at class.

Aziraphale didn’t want to say anyting too incriminatory. He still feared Crowley would go back to teasing when he got back to Howarts, but Crowley did get confier as he wrote.

“… and he threatened me with writing to Father, telling them of my calcifications. I told him to do so. See, after what we went throu with the whole DADA, I was quite happy! It was not a high calification, but I got it right… well, Father was furious. He…”

The letter was long and messy, like Crowley was rambling throu paper. It was also filled with misspellings and scratches, and the handwriting was very poor…   
“oh, dear” Aziraphale let go while reading how the Father had threatened him with taking away some of his favourite little pleasures, in order to get him to take more effort…  
He wrote back instantly, and this time, he made sure to ask.  
“are you allright, dear? It all sounds quite dreadfull” he was trying to be comprensive “you did work on the DADA, and you passed. I am sure your father just wants for you to be the best you can…” and so on and so forth.

When the letter got to Crowley, he was habing a normal kind of day. Since Aziraphale had left, all kids where afraid of being his new target, and so he could midly abuse everyone for small, simple and fun porpuses. He was trying not to call to much attention on his group thou: he didn’t want to get “assigned” to a new victim, and, bedsides, he had other problems now…

The letter got to him, and his face lighted. He tried to dissimulate, but still, he handed over his broom to some ramdom kid from Ravenclaw “here. Put it away. Not one scratch”.  
He was willing to open the letter and see what aziraphale would have to tell him, but he couldn’t read it at the hall: it was supposed to be a secret.   
“so. No flying today?” “nah. Sorry guys, I got… I just noticed I got a duty today. Family stuff”  
“right… who’s the girl?” “what?” “you know. The gril who’s writing to you. Don’t make that face! Look at him. Did you really think it was not very obvious?”  
Crowley tried to go from his…actual face to a more serious, defying one. “so. What makes you think so?” “well, you get letters regulary now. And whenever you do, you are in a good mode. You smile and stuff” “…hu.”

Crowley had noticed the letters made him kind of happy. Well, happy was not the word. Maybe…a little more ‘cheerfull’? yes, maybe.  
It was probably the fact that he shared something no one knew. This funny secret wich was only his. And it was something quite cool! He got to chit chat of everyone on theyr backs, even if he was supposed to be friends with them he got to complain of how a bunch of jerks they where. He also got help from a genious* for DADA, which was not easy for him… oh well, better not profundice there. And he got to ease his stress whenever… shit. That’s even worst.

No. Aziraphale’s letters where a piece of blank space from far away, in wich he could relax and be himshelf, no one to bitch about…  
“are you alright, dear? (…) I am sure your father…” and there it was. Fuck.  
Crowley had to put the letter away for later, and lay on bed. He had to think of something else to do for the day, but he was not really in the mood for anything. Specially for thinking of his Father.

But eventually, he had to.  
He tried to be convincing, on telling Aziraphale that he was quite angry with his brother on that moment, but time had passed by and he was actually much better now. That everything was fine, and it was not a problem anymore**. And he felt kind of awfull for it.  
Stil, he signed, and sent the owl. He nearly performed the accio spell on the damn thing while he watched it fly away. But he breathed deeply, and didn’t.

Next week he had another argument and wrote again. He wished he had used accio.  
He wished he hadn’t lied in Aziraphale’s letter at all.

Aziraphale got the first letter and was quite calmed down. He wrote a small note to tell Crowley he was happy he was fine, and some other things that had happened… but soon after sending it he got the second. And it was worrying.

The second letter was a crumbled paper without even an emvelope, like it was kind of urgent.   
It had been written with the same issues than the first (actually, entire pagraphs where scratched here) as he was reading, Aziraphale’s heart sank.  
“he care so much for DADA and he doesn’t even want me to be auror, he wants…(scratch)”  
“he gives no shit for me. Nor no one. He is rotten inside (that was scratched, and written, and scratched again) he only care for his stupid image…” “my brothers are no brothers, they are…”  
“sometimes I actually have nightmares…(scratch)” “I should quite school and see what he does. Hope he hurts me or something and he has to cover it up…”

Aziraphale was pale as he kept reading. He wondered if he wanted to cast a spell to see beyond the scratches***  
Crowley would never let anyone see him in such state of weakness, and this was not material for pranking him. He was being honest and he was in need. But in need of what? What could he do?  
He could not denounce his father for abuse. He was just being very severe and too uncaring for Crowley’s feelings. And goodness, he could not tell him to revel and make things worst, or to stop studying…

This time he had to take his time, and write and write many versions and even make a list of what he should say… and he made sure to add:  
“if you like potions, and it is easy for you, then maybe in a future you can try that…”

 

*Aziraphale had become quite skilled in Defense Against the Dark Arts while making extra research to defense himself from Crowley. By second year, it had proven very usefull against all shorts of substances Rowley throwed on him, his things, or made him trip or slip with. This had resulted on Crowley getting frustrated, and everyone whispering, and him trying harder, and everyone wishpering further…  
**Deep inside, where you hide the things you know but you don’t want to recognice, he knew he was lying in his writing.  
***He could. Crowley had obviously not taken the time to protect the letter.


	6. Over a couple of butterbeers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale expent one year exchanging letters.   
> Now Crowley has something new to say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for underage drinking. I dun know how to code that.

Aziraphale was so nervous, going back in the train.  
He looked throu the window, taking in the familiar, beautifull views he hadn’t seen last year, and he couldn’t stop thinking.

He had spent one year (more or less) writing Crowley and getting his letters back. They had been speaking of everything and nothing. Crowley had told him how miserable and angry he was sometimes… and yet, Aziraphale knew, there was still a chance that it was not true.

There was one chance that Crowley, (with that twisted mind of his) had been making it all up, just to get him to care, just to… to …

Aziraphale was nervous going back.

He got to the station at Hogsmade. Alone. No one else in the train, not even the lady who sells sweets. He walked like you do at night on your way to the kitchen after watching a terror movie, poked out his head… and took a peck.

There was no one at the station.  
Wait. This could be it. Back when Crowley teased him, he would pretend to be friendly, and then behave like a…!

“Azira!” he turned.

Crowley had made sure to keep top secret his pen relationship with Aziraphale. And much more his return. No one knew, and no one knew he knew. He was nervous, but nervous ‘cause he was going to see him again!*

Crowley waited in the station thinking of stupid things like, what if someone else shows up? Oh, Merlin what if his brother had found the letters and planned to come now confront him? what if the meeteng was akward and Aziraphale hated him…?

The train got there, and there was no one else. A blond curled-haired head poked out, and Crowley called out to him. the head turned, followed by the rest of him.

Ow.

How to explain it? Well, its odd, to explain…

Aziraphale was not what you think of when you say “handsome” but he was very handsome. Crowley didn’t expect it: it had been just one year. Aziraphale looked the exact same. Same taste at clothing, same curls, same glasses… same face.  
It was just a little bit his features that had changed. He had gown taller. The fact that he was chubby hadn’t changed, but it wasn’t so llamative anymore. 

Crowley was honestly shocked. For a moment.

“Crowley?”** Azirphale got off the train carefully and aproached Crowley tentatively. He looked around several times.   
There appeared to be no one around. No other Slytherin kids, not even hiding to jump on him with some sticky substance and a camera…

“is it you?” of course it was him. It looked like him. Is just, of course, Crowley had grown too. Puverty, you know. He had always been a handsome kid, but now he was a handsome young man**

They where standing one in front of the other, and they where looking back and forth awkwardly, but smiling. Finally, feeling like a tight hug would be a bit too much, Crowley offered the other a handshake, and put his other hand on his shoulder, and shook him tight and affectionately.  
Aziraphale was a bit surprised, but he took it in nicely.

Crowley walked him to The Three Broomsticks, where the chubby boy would stay ‘till the next day. Crowley helped him get the stuff throu the door and they sat, as he invited Aziraphale to a butterbeer.  
A young woman attended them, and Aziraphale kept asking casually, while Crowley seemed suddenly very still**** but they both settled down with the help of several butterbeers.

Plus, Crowley had winked an eye to Aziraphale over the first jar, and pulled out a small glass container, from wich he droped one drop in each jar. He then clicled them “cheers” and drunk.  
He was lowering his jar already when Aziraphale noticed he was staring, deciding if he should drink or not, and hurried up to drink.

He gulped a good third of the content in one go, and then had to squeeze his eyes and gulp again. He looked at Crowley, shocked. “oh!” “I know, right!”

It was butterbeer with alcohol. “just a little bit. A new trick I just perfected…”  
“but… but this is wrong!” “oh, just a little bit” Crowley called for another one, and kept drinking to finish the one he already had.  
“but how… I mean, I know you were good with potions, but how…?”  
“do you like it, or not?”

Aziraphale had to lean back, and plan his answer. He wasn’t going to lie, but… did he like it? “well I don’t… I’m not sure I dislike it…” “that’s good! Try another one, see if your ideas get more clear”  
Aziraphale drank.  
And they drank together. And Aziraphale, oddly enough, liked it.

“s…soo… “ Crowley tried to concentrate on this one thing, after a while of dancing around nothing and everything, and laughting a lot. (laughting for real. With someone. That was nice) “So I have been nothithi… notissi… uh, knowing lately…”

Aziraphale drank again, smiling. “what?” “there are two parts… of me. Of mah liffee…you sssee…” “I may see double but I thh –i-ink you’r still in one piece!”

Both laughted. The bartender was getting suspicious.

“nah. Bear, roar, no. Bear with me. Thisssss import-tant…”  
Aziraphale looked, (trying to keep his eyes open) at Crowley closely.

“my life, it is, id parted in two. You sse, tha um, the thingss I have to pretend. And the things that are. Are true. For me. You see?”  
“…I think I see the bartender is…angry at us… how much you put…?”  
“no no no no listen. Listen! Listenlisten… did you listen what i say?”

Aziraphale concentrated, and breathed deeply. “you think, your life, divids… div… uh, ‘s ssplit in two” “yes” “…what you ike… and what you dun’ike?” “nununu…”

“hope I am ‘twin the things you like” “nunu… you are. You see, I have to pretend, all day. All damnd day, that I like Neera.. uh, Nereeaa, bah. Mah fredns, who are not...”  
“Nereea’s pretty. Dun’ like er?” “…nu. Eh…” “ookay”

“I ‘ave to say I am a good boy, good son, to my dad, and I’m good at dDa.. Da…”  
“Defensess aGains…De…” “yeah, that. And I don’t! I dunt! I hate that stuff! All of it. All off them! My dad, mah bros… her…” “you hate me?”

Crowley was half body spraled in the table, beer next to his face, explaining this complicated matter to Aziraphale. He actualy looked at him, long and deep.  
“nonono. I love you. I jus… hate everythinnn else, and that’s sad”

“yeah man, that’s bad” “uhu” “’come ‘ere” 

Aziraphale petted his head and ivited him to another drink. Little after they run up the stairs making excuses, and tripling on the steps, holding badly their laughter, ‘till they got to Aziraphale’s room.

They crushed on Aziraphale’s bed, and laughed, and just stood there ‘till they calmed down. Crowley needed to go to the bathroom. Azirpahale too. Crowley went first and said “I will juststay a minute…” “…okay”

When Aziraphale came back, he didn’t have the heart to push Crowley off, nor to wake him up. 

 

*The only one he actualy considered a friend… no, wait, he could not Think that. it was pathetic. He could not think that, scrathc that.  
**And that was his voice. Crowley hadn’t expected to hear that or first time after so long. He should have, but it got him off guard.  
***well, they had been pre-teens / early teens when they had parted… and now, they where a bit older. Nothing more, nothing less.  
****Crowley was suddenly wondering if anyone in the school would come by and find out he had been here with Aziraphale, and what to do in that case…?


	7. Pretend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale goes back to Howarts, and Crowley has to go back to his routine.

“aaahhhhh” groaned one “ow ow ow… ooof!” the other.  
And Aziraphale rolled over and droped onto the floor, and though he would puck, but he managed to get to the bathroom… and then didn’t. that was odd, he felt like puking.

“what was on that thing?” he came by, complanin more than anything, as Crowley was still half-dozed off, “I didn’t expect to drink so much” he squirmed in bed enjoying the warmth, not coming so much from the suntlight but from the bed itself. The headache was a problem, but he had slept nice.  
“I will have to prepare something for the hangover next time” Aziraphale wasn’t sure there should be a next time, but he didn’t comment on it. “if someone can manage that’s you” he said without thinking, and sat on the edge of the bed trying to remember who he was and where.

They took a shower and had breakfast. When Aziraphale came out the bathroom he found Crowley preparing something, again. “oh nooo” he whispered, and ignored him. Still Crowley handed him a vial under the table, to take with his milk.  
“I have no intention to repeat tonight’s mistake” he opposed. But the other was so insistent, and he was not in state of arguing, so he made sure the bartender was not looking and he gulped it all down in one go.  
To his surprise, the way upstairs was easier. By the time he was picking his things up he hadn’t any more nausea, and by the time they walked out carrying his luggage, the headage was gone as well. It hadn’t been a perfect fix, but Crowley had manged to improvise a quite decent fix for the hangover in the time between he got into the shower, and down for breakfast.

“I do believe you have a talent for potions” he told his friend “you could live from it, or at least, take a good…” “naah nonsense” Crowley cut him “its just one of many things I like, but I am not gonna spend my life in it” he waved it off. Aziraphale resisted the urge to ask. What other things he liked? What would he spend his life on? He wondered if Crowley had mentioned this in his letters before… but he preferred not to think to deep, for most of it went all the way back to those sad and worrying letters abouth his family…

They spoke about something else, comenting the views and whatever had changed in the time Aziraphale was gone, right ‘till they reached the door of one of the back gardens, and it opened…

“SURPRISE!!” the prefects, the whole hufflepuff house and some others, including teachers where there. Face to face with two startled and very stiff students.  
“In the name of all of howarts, and speacially the Hufflepuff house, welcome back, Aziraphale!” said the head of the house, with a warm smile. A little applause came from around her, and Aziraphale had (he had to!) force a smile in.  
“you shouldn’t have…” he muttered between his teeth, as his luggage was taken from him, and he was friendly shoved inside, towards the great hall, a season of questions and many effusive hellos on his way.

Crowley was left behind, a few suspicious glares throwed to him, and he felt a bit lonely.  
He should be probably looking for his “friends” and thinking of an excuse to being seen with the other in his arrival.

Efectively. As fast as he got back to them, they where comenting on how sudden the boy’s return was, and how did Crowley know? Why didn’t he tell them? What had he done to welcome him? Right there, right then, while Crowley was improvising casual lies with a smug smile, he was conscient of how awfull he felt.   
Seriously, he was feeling Sick of this. Not this again, please. Would he have to pretend to be mean to Aziraphale? Again? All while keeping his new state of friendship with him? Oh shit.

He had to ignore his group while eating, as they insisted on him doing something to the Hufflepuff, or at least telling them what he had planned. Crowley waved it off with a suspicious smile, while panicking inside. He didn’t waste one glare to the other, who had, undoubthly, hear some of the coments, and was worrying a bit himself.

This situation went of for nearly one week. Tension rising. Kids wondering what would happen and when, on the trhee* sides. Then, Crowley had had enough of willing to just speak to the other kid, and of preassure. He had a plan.

He walked all the way up to Aziraphale, making a beeline. There was silence as the chubby boy slowly turned to him. Crowley gave him a serpent, wide smile, and extended his hand, a small, decorated box on it.   
“welcome back, Zira” he said. And the silence was thick while Aziraphale glared back at him, and slowly took the thing. Crowley walked away to his table while still smiling.

Aziraphale was confused, and worried, but he carefully unfolded the present, and found a small chocolate cake in it. He armed himself of bravery and, against the advices of his alarmed housemates, took a bite.  
His teeth held something wich was not eatable. He pulled it out. It was a note.  
“need to talk. 8pm…’ “what does it say?” Aziraphale crumpled the paper and said nothing.  
“nothing good. Por Aziraphale! Shouldn’t even care to take the thing…”

Aziraphale knew he didn’t need to pretend Crowley was mean to him anymore. It was all Crowley’s problem. But still he knew if he didn’t, not only Crowley could be in more trouble than he already was, but it could make things more complicated.  
…bedsides. He was the only one who Crowley trusted with his issues. The only one who knew.

8pm was late to the point of risky. Specially to walk around the forbidden forest. But after finding Crowley there, he marveled just at how calm the place seemed to make Crowley feel.  
So they walked between the trees, in half darkness. Casually speaking sometimes.

“you like plants, don’t you?” Crowley turned at him. They where a big part of potions, after all.   
He wouldn’t recognice it out loud, but his casual, calm, nearly-happy expression, was enough for Zira. Crowley walked between the trees like one does across a dream’s fog, sometimes carasing the bark when passing close to one. Contemplating the shapes the tall branches made and the small plants at his feet.  
They walked to the greenhouse, and split there. Aziraphale went back in a hurry, Crowley stood a bit in this place that he secretly liked, and went back to the forest and back from there, so no one would notice they had been talking.

 

*Three counting Crowley, Aziraphale and the rest of the Slytherins. Four counting the rest of the school.


	8. DADA camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley is taking a big risk. He is gonna need help from aziraphale. It will be a risk for him too...

“i didn’t magicaly become good at DADA” he tells his friends “i just convince some posible victim from rvenclaw to do it all for me” and they giggle. One of them asks about his usual victim. He actually has an excuse prepared this time. 

“oh, i gave him a new present. Something to make sure he knows i still remember him… i got punished, i fear, but it was worth it…”

“what did you do?” Nerea seems eager, nearly as happy as Crowley for Aziraphale’s return, just for different reasons. “oh, i can not tell you becouse i am a gentelman… but it involved the batherooms, you know. Again” he lies.  
“and what did they punish you with?” “oh, i don’t know, but i have to be at the guardian’s hut after class…” he lies again.

Truth is, he didn’t do anything to Aziraphale, at all. And he was not punish: he has an appointment with his supposed victim at the forbidden forest. 

He thinks this is a good plan, and maybe he can use it again some time…  
But then, his happy thougs are interupted. His brother awaits him on the next corner. He has that face that says “Crowley’s in trouble with daddy” and that alone scares him.

At least he will have something to tell Aziraphale this afternoon.

“your father said what?” Aziraphale had hear, but he needed to hear it again, in order to process. “he is not happy with good grades, he wants me to be good at DADA for real, so i can handle myself in a fight…” “but why?” Crowley barely listens. He keep saying “and he considers my interest and good grades at potions and herbology a stupid distraction, and he wants me to put it down”  
“well, i understand that he may be old fashioned, and wants you to be strong instead of dedicating to potions… but, enough to encourage you to leave two other things that you are good at…! You said he didn’t have interest in you beiing an auror, right?”

Crowley denies with his head. He seems very troubled.  
“no no, no. I know what he… i suspect i know what he wants. …and i don’t like it.”  
“well, whatever is it?” Crowley denies again. “come on, dear. Why don’t you tell me?”  
“i can’t tell…” Aziraphale doesnt understand why, but he takes it. Crowley is very upset already, and doesnt intend to trouble him. 

Some more walking may help. He walks to the lake, close by, and Crowley follows.  
Both walk by the shore contempling the views. The Hufflepuff boy piks a stone, and trhows it into the water.  
He never manages to make them jump, not much, at the very least, but the whild geese recognice the sound and come towards them. Crowley looks at the animals, feeling a bit better at the sight, as Aziraphale invoques a load of bread he hid with magic in his robes. He offers a part to Crowley, and the Slytherin takes it.  
They feed the geese. 

Crowley is a bit terrified. But he doubts he can even tell Aziraphale.

After a while, the blond boy asks.  
“im sure there is something you can do”  
“there’s not”  
“maybe if you calmly and firmly speak up to your father, and expose your case…”  
“nope” “he may even respect you for it” “nope. You don’t know him”  
“you could try. Got nothing to loose” “it would be worst” 

Crowley doesn’t even consider it. But there is something he was thinking…something that may even work.  
“…there is something i’d like to try” “uhm?” “it… is something i shouldn’t do, of course, but, it could help… specially, with a bit of your help”  
“…”

Crowley’s father received a very convincing note* from the head of the Slythering house, and from the Principal responsible of the school and of the teacher responsible for DADA, informing him that his son had requested, and after a while and some tests, benn sent to a intensive course fo DADA, wich was believed, would notably increase his capacities in the matter.

Some important people at the scholl (the ones mentioned before) received a similar not from crowley’s father** saying that, as he considered DADA so important, and his son’s developement on it, he was sending him to a certain course…

Aziraphale worked on the papers. It was not easy, but he was good. Even with the spells needed. Crowley and him worked toghether for quite a while before sending the letters, making sure to plan everything and to save some money to rent a small hut in the nearby middle of nowhere***

Aziraphale made sure to save his weekends to go check on Crowley and give him some company. He was going to need lots of concentration, a leaf of mandrake, and alittle bit more of time than a month…

...

Aziraphale had been so unsure of this, so nervous, so… well! But as Crowley had put it “one must make stupid decisions while he is joung, so he can tell when he’s older… and better go big, right?!”

Given how miserable Crowley had seem abouth the whole thing with his father, and how entusiastic he was about this, and also convinced that it could help, he did decide to take this one huge risk and help him.

He was tremendously nervous, when the time of the truth came, and Crowley believed he was ready…

The shcok, and the joy, couldn’t be more.  
It didn’t backfire. At all. It worked.

Crowley was, after all a stuborn and twisted bartard. And very good at potions too.

From then on, Aziraphale was known to have a pet snake, he kept it somewhere, and he was seen very ofthen walking around the school with the creature crawled on his shoulders, speaking to it carelessly, and studying DADA.  
Casually, he was never interupted by that Crowley boy when holding his snake.  
Crowley was nowhere to be seen then.

 

*He didn’t notice it was fake.  
**well, that is, fake ones.  
***they didn’t need much money. Not much people ever want to go there even for vacations.


	9. Into the woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale goes into the woods. the cricunstantes are complicated.

In 5th year, Aziraphale was named prefect.

He was a nice prefect, but the teasing had increased.  
He collided with Crowley in one of the corridors, so hard, he fell to the floor. The Slytherin young man looked at him with poison in his eyes.  
“look where you walk, mudblood!” he made sure to kick the book he had been reading before he walked away.  
Aziraphale busied himself picking his things up… and took from his pocket the small piece of paper he had received. “do not go thru little door!”  
He made sure to throw the thing in the first bin he encountered. He was lucky to have a such friend*

Later that day he was walking from the quidditch quarters to the castle (he had all shorts of duties as a prefect) Carrying a bag with small things for the preparatives of the next match:  
A list of needed fixes for the camp and stuff, some badges which needed to be craved, a key he didn’t really know what was for…  
And in the middle of the air, there floated a beautifull small door, An estrange glow coming from it. It was in the middle of his path, white, (seemingly wood) with golden details.  
…some of said details looked a lot like the cravings on the key.  
This door was for him. He had the key. It was too good to resist it…  
But he had been warned. So he avoided it, and he kept walking.  
Actually, he made sure to throw the stupid key right there and then, to make sure it wouldn’t tempt him again.

That afternoon, there was no levitation class. Nor the next. For anyone in the school. Aziraphale had a suspicion, but he preferred not to think of it.  
…three days later, they restarted classes with a substitute…  
At the time authorities started searching for the original teacher.  
He appeared at the end of the week, but it was not said what had happened. The substitute kept teaching.

“Crowley please, just tell me what happened to that poor man!”  
“oh, I don’t know… unless he happened to find certain key and cross the door…”  
“… well?”  
“well, you don’t want to know”  
“Crowley please!”  
“ok, look, I’m not sure of it. Just something about a room and compression… but he is alive, if that’s what bothers you. In the hospital, but alive”

Aziraphale kept silent for a moment. “you guys are going too far, you know”  
“oh I had nothing to do with it. Plus I warned you. Can’t complain”  
Aziraphale rolled his eyes. This pretending-they-where-still-enemies thingy was really stupid. …but somehow held itself. And Crowley, in his unstable life.

And the two boys kept walking through the forest, even with the snow covering it. There were no goose in the lake in winter, but it was still nice.  
Afterwards, they went back by separated ways, as usual.

Aziraphale went back to the quidditch quarters next day. Alone.  
Well, there were more people there. He noticed when a quaffle hit the back of his head.  
“quite smart right? Shouldn’t you officially apologize?”  
“apologize for what?” Crowley was among them, but he stood in the back. Smugly smile on his face.  
“ain’t you so smart? Didn’t you put the key there, next to the door? Why don’t you tell the professors?”  
Aziraphale calculated. This guys where probably guilty… and they wanted him to take the blame, somehow? Even if it could be veritable, he was not so stupid, nor so scared.  
“I don’t know what you are talking about”  
The group advanced, in a playfull, jet threatening way, all them smiling. Aziraphale knew this situation: it was turning worrying.  
He just turned and walked out. Fast.  
“Hey! I’m talking to you!” faster. The quaffle hit him again, this time quite harder. Aziraphale avoided a trip and started running.  
“oh, no you don’t! …expelliarmus ”  
He fell belly first, face into the snow. An “oof” sound right out of his lungs. The group snickered.  
“hey! I liked watching him run”  
“see if I can lift that fat but!”  
Aziraphale did try to get up, but he found himself floating to the most basic levitation spell.  
“hey, catch!” one of the guys ‘passed him over to the other’ Aziraphale weighted quite a bit, and the others laughted at how he balanced in the air. Then, an abrupt fall.  
“ooops, droped it”  
“is just too round for a quaffle”  
Aziraphale did hear a familiar, distant voice, insecure “guys, you are going to far…”  
But they where not stopping, and Aziraphale was the number one student at DADA  
Next time he was lifted, he had drawed out his wand. He ended the spell easily, and ignored his third fall, walking forwards this time. Several spells sent fast, one after the other, one for each of the first ones in line.  
Crowley was further in the back.  
The whole group charged, with little hesitation. Aziraphale held back quite fine…  
It was no longer cruel teasing, it was a true fight.

Nerea sent a couple of charms in the opposite direction: towards the quidditch quarters.  
Crowley saw them flying past him. In that moment, he didn’t have time to repress himself. He shouted.  
“ZIRA!!”   
A set of two bludgers started attacking him from all angles, and now he had no chance against the team, who kept attacking him now in a triumphant, mocking way.

It was Crowley who defended him.  
Crowley started attacking his house mates, from the back.   
Nerea saw it all while standing still with an open mouth. Like her, once distracted by the attack the other didn’t reply. The stared at him.

“what are you doing?” finally asked one of them. Crowley was furious, and scared.   
Luckily, he was good at improvising.  
“you are going too fucking far! I told you to stop!”  
“why? He attacked us!”  
“he did ‘cause you where going too far!”  
“you do every day. Why do you care now?”

Everyone expected his answer. Crowley drew a deep breath before answering.

“I do with brains, you morons! I do so I can keep doing it, more and more everyday, and no one cares! But you call attention with this. For this, you can get punish. Like your stupid idea of the stupid door!”  
His so called friend who stood up to him now bit his lip. He wanted to keep pushing Aziraphale, and he wanted to argue with Crowley, but he did have a point**  
“whatever. It doesn’t matter now” said someone else.  
Crowley turned around. Aziraphale was gone. His footprints in the snow disappeared into the forest.  
“yeah, lets go” said someone else, and the group, turned down by Crowley’s little fit, turned around and slowly walked away.

After a couple of seconds, they started chatting and the girls giggled. And the conversation turned meaningless and stupid.  
Crowley only wanted to run. Run into the forest and follow the track of footprints, and make sure Aziraphale was fine, …but he could not. He had to pretend.   
He had to walk with the others, and try to participate in the meaningless conversation.  
And he had to waste his precious time, killing time with the others, for hours, when he actually wanted to run.

It was dinner time at the great hall, when Crowley could finally excuse himself..  
He said he felt quite sick “maybe for today’s little game” he said. And left.  
Truth is, he hadn’t seen Aziraphale at the hall. He hadn’t seen him at all since the fight. And he was actually worried.  
Before he left, he croached over some of his new pseudo victims: one Hufflepuff boy who knew everybody and anything that happened to them*** he asked for Aziraphale. And he did in an specially threatening way, not to seem suspicious.  
Aziraphale had been nowhere to be seen. Then, Crowley left.  
He didn’t even dress for the cold. He had a dejabu, from the last time he did this: grab his broom and jump off a window.  
This time it was different. He wouldn’t follow a clear path and just try to get there fast.  
He had to try and follow the boy’s track through the forbidden forest, at night, and it was snowing.  
He hurried over hoping the snow had started not long ago, and he could still find the track…  
Everything looked so different in the dark, even when using lumos.  
He did wonder if he should call the guardian of the lands… but as for now, that would only complicate things.  
He found the place where Aziraphale had disappeared, and followed in as much of a straight line, as one can in the forbidden forest, at night.  
He tried to follow a pretty much imaginary path which he wanted to believe, seemed to have footprints on it.   
The odd thing is, it did turn more intuitive, and he did see this path going somewhere…

The lake.  
It was frozen now. Black at the light of the lumos charm. Crowley walked up to the shore hoping to catch a glimpse around…  
And there was a frozen bludger stuck in the frost by the shore.  
“Aziraphale” he whispered. Of course, he should have know the bludgers had kept attacking him, and of course, in a desperate attempt, Aziraphale may have tried to loose them in the lake…  
Crowley jumped back on his broom and flew across the piece of lake to the nearest shore across.  
Before he got there, he found something stuck on the ice.  
For one moment he panicked! But, no. no he refused to think that it might be a lifeless body… It surely must be something else without meaning at all…

He used his wand to break the ice ad pull out the thing into his hands. To the cold of the air and the faint falling of the snow added the feeling of freezing water soaking his hands.  
…and wet, frozen fabric. It was his scarf. Aziraphale was at the lake. He had left his scarf behind. That must be it. This was good, this was a good omen. He was probably nearby…  
So Crowley kept flying at ground level, and entered the forest once more.  
Here, now he was lost. Maybe Aziraphale kept on by the shore, hoping to get to a point where he could see the castle from the lake? He followed that route, and started calling for him.

And he kept doing that for what felt like hours. Trembling, freezing. Under the slowly falling snow, the light coming from his wand, the only light.  
He could feel his hands only because his nails where hurting, and he knew that some people have problems on the nerves of their hands after exposing them to extreme cold…  
But the worst part was the loose of hope.  
‘this is how I lost him. This is what ended up happening. He got lost in the forest, and fell in the lake, and I tried to find him but it was too late… and it will only be my fault, for not helping him when I should… and …’ and his mind kept playing horrible scenarios ‘if I don’t find him… oh. I don’t even care if it blows my cover or if they punish me… it won’t matter anymore…’  
“Aziraphale!!”

And he believed… there, to be something. A sound. Faint.  
Did he hear it really, or it was just his mind, and the dark, and the shadows of the bushes…?  
He started roaming the zone, desperately, and called again, and kept silent to listen…   
And when he found him, he didn’t fit in himself of the joy. The relief.

“Aziraphale! Shit what’re you doing here? You’re freezing…! ”  
But the blonde boy didn’t register his words, or just didn’t react.  
He registered that Crowley talked worried and sweetly to him. He forced him to get up from his cozy, freezing post against a tree, between the bushes, and sat him on his broom.

“come on, easy angel.. there you go, see…?”

Crowley made him hold onto him, and carried them both flying close to the ground across the lake, and across the forest, and lifted among the trees, and the air up there was stronger and even colder…  
Aziraphale held tighter and Crowley promised him they where almost there.

They went in through a window, and Crowley held him as best as he could while carrying him to the Hufflepuff’s entrance.  
He had to insist him a little bit so that he would say the words to get in, and then passed with him.  
Luckily, there was no one around. Everyone in bed by now. Good.  
He took Aziraphale’s clothes off, and sat him down on a cushion in front of the fire, his back against the couch, and laid a blanket around him.  
Aziraphale was looking at the calmant, nice fire in front of him, and didn’t know how did Crowley make warm tea.  
Had he done it with his ineffable potion making abilities? Did he carry everywhere an extensible pocket with vials and ingredients? Or did he just summon whatever was around?  
It didn’t matter. Soon, he had a cozy blanket around him, a fire in front, a warm cup on his hands… and Crowley only on his shirt and shorts, sharing the blanket with him.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” the Slytherin kept saying…but, why? He had saved him!  
He had expected any professor or the guardian of the lands to come for him, but it was his dearest friend who risked it all to help him.  
Why? How could it be that all of Crowley’s family, and housemates and friends where so mean, and he was so nice? Why was him so nice?

 

*an infiltrated one.  
**and he was Crowley. From a good family. Crowley the popular one. …he couldn’t start a fight with him.  
***he was useful when cheating very often.


	10. Not kids anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley and Aziraphale were growing together...  
> And had many things in common...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning:  
> there is no sex, but there may or may not be sexual behavior

Aziraphale woke up the next morning to the relief and giggles of his house mates: he was sleeping in the couch, covered with the blanket.  
His clothes where hung in every surface around the fire, including chairs, finally dried.  
Crowley was nowhere to be found.  
“yeah… I got lost in the snow, and came here late… and needed to warm up by the fire… sorry”  
He said.  
And he couldn’t stop thinking, of how easy it was now, after how much of a close call it had been.  
How incredibly freezing cold and terrifying it had been, how lost he was, how cold, how dark…  
And how easily it was all being waved off, only thanks to Crowley.  
He kept thinking of Crowley, and his friendship with Crowley.  
And to think there was a time when he was cruel to him!  
And to think that, when they had started to be friends, he had doubted him!  
And to think the problems Crowley had because of his family…

Aziraphale was very thankful, and it showed.  
Crowley was determined not to let something like last time happen again*  
The two of them were not seen alone… but their jokes had become more of a game.  
Crowley’s ‘friends’ seemed suspecting of him. But for some reason he wasn’t giving so much of a shit anymore.

One of Crowley’s ‘frineds’ had a theory… and He kind of let them believe it to use it as some kind of cover…  
“he’s got a girlfriend! That’s why he’s smiling so much, and distracted… and he’s not even so playful with the others anymore”  
“that cannot be! He’s only with us!”  
“oh, but he disappears from time to time, right?”  
Nerea made a face, and used her proud tone of voice “he would have told me”  
“would he? Now think: he was writing someone a couple of years ago… but not anymore! And he was so happy with those letters…”  
“ah! And he never let any of us read them!”  
“maybe he is dating someone in second year? Can you believe it…”  
Nerea complained to Crowley of the rumors. But he waved it away.  
He didn’t care.

“can you believe it? Even my father wrote back to me. He worries that I may be risking the ‘healthy relationship I got with that girl…’ “  
“maybe you are” Aziraphale said this in an uncaring tone. Walking with Crowley through the forest by the lake was much more interesting.  
“I don’t give a fuck anymore”  
“Crowley!”  
Crowley picked a snowball and threw it to him, just to bother him.

“I though he wanted you to… oof! … and you couldn’t…”  
But Crowley kept interrupting him with snowballs. “Shut up, angel”  
Aziraphale responded… and he was good at DADA.  
Crowley abandoned his scare chances with the snow fight, and charged at him directly.  
Aziraphale attempted a withdrawal, But the other jumped on him and both fell to the snow.  
Once there, Crowley wondered what to do. So he tickled him.  
‘cause why not?  
Aziraphale defended himself** after releasing an eep! And shoved a handful of snow right into Crowley’s face, hair and neck.

“ow shit!!” Crowley Held Aziraphale down from the forearms, and they stood there. Laughing.  
The laughed well and long, not realizing how odd, how compromised their situation was.  
As they calmed down, they were still smiling, and staring at each other’s eyes.

Is in this precise, beautiful moment, when it hit Crowley. Without even understanding.  
He wanted to kiss Aziraphale.  
He did so much.  
It was nice, being like this. He wanted more. It was good.

But he could not kiss him! So he just lowered, and rested right there, with the excuse of catching his breath. His breath ticking Aziraphale’s neck.  
The Hufflepuff boy laughed again, and patted and caressed the others shoulder, and then his head.  
Crowley registered one thumb caressing his hair*** and he raised again, and stared at aziraphale’s smiling and happy eyes again.  
And he kissed him.

It was not specially deep. But it was firm. No mistake. No excuse. Not a simple brush of lips.  
There was pressure and a bit of movement.  
And it lasted a few seconds. Long, nice seconds; in which Crowley was laying over Aziraphale, gently and playfully holding him down against the ground, and kissing him.

When Crowley rose again, he drew in a nice breath, and only then looked back down.  
Aziraphale seemed shocked. And he was still being held down.  
Croweley made a worried, confused face, and got up.

They both sat up and stood in the snow, not looking at each other, realizing what had just happen.  
They didn’t understand.  
So they just went back in silence and said goodbye awkwardly.

‘I can’t believe it…’ he was thinking over and over later ‘he is the only person I can turn to, and I just… jeopardize the whole thing! i…’  
“see? He must’ve argued with his secret-or-not-so-secret-girlfriend that’s why he’s so jumpy…”  
‘bullocks!’

Aziraphale seemed to be making a normal routine. …Only whoever knew him could tell: he was distracted.

It was a mutual decision to wave away whatever had happened and see each other again, a little, in a casual way.  
Aziraphale was worried that Crowley may be specially stressed out for some reason, maybe something happened with his family?  
Crowley ignored all his panic for the mere reason that he just could not afford to loose Aziraphale. 

Slowly, they went back to normal, and forgot everything.  
…or did they?  
Aziraphale had never been kissed before.  
He had had sexual dreams before, but those where vague, and uncertain…  
Now there was a face.  
A face with high cheeks toned skin, black hair and those eyes… and that smile… and that way of looking which was only for him…  
No one else knew of that look.  
His dreams started easy. Nothing sexual. Only Crowley staring at him with that face, across the whole dining hall or the corridor, everyone walking randomly in between and no one noticing.  
Crowley walking through the forest and him trying not to loose him from sight, following him wherever he wanted to go. Trusting in him through it. He would follow him anywhere.  
Crowley’s voice would ecco from time to time “angel…”

…and then there was that dream in wich they where in the Hufflepuff common room, sitting in front of the fire…and Crowley was kissing him.  
And this kiss had no end.  
The sexual dreams he didn’t remember much details. it was just the sensations, which made them sexual. Nice**** sensations.

In real life, Aziraphale kept feeling confused, and he and Crowley kept having normal, friendly meetings***** Crowley noticed he was very silent, but didn’t comment on it.  
It was him who started it, in the end.

“Crowley… I’m sorry but…”  
“sorry for what” he didn’t look at his face. He wouldn’t risk it.  
“I uh… I just keep wondering. …why did you kiss me?”  
“Pardon?”  
“you kissed me. Why?”  
“I… dunno what you’re talking about. Sorry”  
“Crowley!”  
“I’m sorry!”  
“Well I’m not sorry! And I know you remember because there is no way you can’t remember! It was awkward, and unique and… and…”  
“Wait, you’re not sorry?”  
“…it…felt, nice… maybe? Don’t know.”  
“…”  
“…maybe… I would need to, try again to…well. Be sure?”  
“…”

There was not such a big difference, from being friends in secret, to doing so, and kissing.  
They would just keep enjoying each other’s company whenever no one was around, and from time to time, share a kiss. And another kiss. And then, another one.  
And more.  
Kisses sometime where casual, other they where blended with little words and laughts, or games. Slowly, they became deeper and sometimes rushed.  
Many times they repeated the situation they where when sharing their first kiss.  
But this once there was no doubt, nor rising back up. Crowley would stay liying on top of Aziraphale for long minutes, kissing him deeply, hands roaming his blond curles.  
(…and sometimes Aziraphale would exchange positions)  
And then, Crowley would kiss his neck.

And it was a whole new level, the tasting of skin. Of skin against skin, and of lips and tounge on it… lying in the ground of the forest, snow already melting, but air still cold, the only problem with Crowle’s hands on his skin was how cold they where.  
“you are still cold blooded are you not?”  
“I’m not. It is too cold for any creature out here, let alone a poor reptile”  
Aziraphale took his cold hands in his, and to his mouth.  
He breathed on them, and caressed his fingers with his lips.  
He glanced over them, and Crowley was looking at him. They shared a deep stare.  
He ten kissed his fingers again. With tounge. It was honestly much more erotic and pleasant than he had imagined.  
The way Crowley moaned, his eyes half lided, still stuck on him, his lips parted, his tounge just there….

…and so, Aziraphale’s dreams became sexier.

 

*he just wouldn’t recognize it out loud.  
**and what was left of his honor  
***it was nice. He wanted more.  
****in this occasion, nice stands for joy of pleasure, or both.  
*****well, as normal as a secret friendly meeting goes.


	11. Under the watch of the mermaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale and Crowley share a nice bath  
> ...and many other fluids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for plain sex  
> also gay. gay sex. you where warned.

During the quidditch tournament of the season, Aziraphale was really busy.  
Not one second for himself, let alone for time alone with his secret lover-kind of busy.  
Crowley liked quidditch as much as any other guy his age who enjoyed flying and speed, that is, a lot. And he was as proud as any other slytherin.  
But this time he didn’t care for his team to win or loose.  
He only wanted the whole thing to be over.

And when it finally was* boy, oh boy.  
Aziraphale and Crowley collided not inside anywhere, but just a lonely corner no one was passing by at the moment, and they kissed.  
Well, kissed, and embraced.  
Ok that is not the proper way to call it.  
It was a messed tangle of limbs and tounge. Hands up and down, pulling aside roves and grasping curls, and caressing skin, and grasping and kissing anything on theyr reach, and biting, and stealing moans…

They were barely conscient enough to break apart and go each their way.  
And of course, it was not the last time.  
It happened again after a few days, and again. And as much as they tried to restrain themselves, (hello! Studies, life, secrecy…?) they where just looking forward to it again

And then it happened. That one time.  
Crowley was against the wall, in a cozy corner of the library no one came around so late. It was warm and dark and silent…  
Only the whispered, low sounds of them both, and what they where doing.  
Kisses and caresses and bites came back and forth. The boys had discovered by shy trial and error that grinding one against the other felt nice.  
And this one time there was no sanity enough to stop each other in time.  
Aziraphale just kept moving without thinking, Crowleys gasps and moans on his ear, his neck.  
His hands holding tight to him and his roves, his body answering the rithm…  
And the sweet, extrange pleasure there, palpitant, with each…  
“Aaaahh!” Suddenly it was right there. He could feel it, that last wave of inminent pleasure coming…  
“Ahhg” suddenly it was very wet in that point of Crowley’s trousers, and he was breathing so hard, holding to him half limp. Aziraphale hadn’t got there quite jet, but he was so close…  
And his mind was fogged. He couldn’t react right now.  
…Crowley did first. He deliveratedly took his hand to Aziraphale’s pants, and tight, slow, he caressed. Aziraphale’s mouth opened in one eternal gasp, but he didn’t stop Crowley.   
All the time, eyes on eachother’s eyes.  
Aziraphale soon gasped shortly several times, and then made a very interesting, mute sound.  
They stood like that a few minutes. One holding to the other, and both onto the wall.

Both had the paranoia that Peeves or a ghost may cross by one nearby wall sometime.

Next time Aziraphale was sitting at the library, (and he did this quite often) he was actually pretending to study, while calculating.  
…would he hold much longer avoiding sex?  
There was a lot of calculation involved, but the obvious answer was no.

He hadn’t expected it like this.  
He didn’t really think of girls at all before. But he vaguely imagined that, one day, he would meet a nice girl with a lot in common with him. Someone shy, who also loved books, and they would be friends for a long time, and then start liking and dating and kissing…  
And he didn’t really go as far as to think of sex and marriage nor what would come first.

‘they don’t tell you its going to be like this’ he thoug. ‘they allways say its when a dad and a mom and a bed… and then kids’ It hadn’t clicked before, that one could have sex in a library, in a moment of weakness, with your best friend, without actual penetration…  
But the real thing was so good. So much more good.  
Its understandable, its hard to explain.

His calculations were very complicated for what it really was:  
‘taking into account our age, and how far we’ve come, and how long he’ve left, and our respectives situations…’  
There was no use resisting. It would happen. And for the looks of it, it would happen soon.  
Aziraphale was already used to sleep on his side, legs strategically placed to avoid a possible, very embarrassing awakening.

“come see me after class…” whispered in Crowley’s ear, when no one was watching, and passed on to him a not, with the place…  
Crowley nearly freaked out.  
The bathroom of the prefects had a large, circular bath zone, with place to sit in the water, and as they approached, the fountain with many taps placed like a tower ones over the others lit on its own and water and soapy water came out giving the place a cascade-like background noise**, creating quite the ambient.

“I didn’t know you good-dooers had nice things!” Crowley said, while taking off his clothes, and nearly jumping to the water. He saw the mermaid in the cristal window, and turned to ask.  
“she won’t tell anything… right?” he suddenly found himself staring.  
Aziraphale had taken off all of his clothes, probably fighting back shyness, and was now, slowly, approaching him.

“It’s a common-not so common bathroom. What happens here is supposed to stay here”

Crowley hadn’t expected this encounter to be so sexual-orientated; neither had Aziraphale, but it was just that way. Like nothing they would say in a situation like this would really sound innocent.

Aziraphale was fighting back shyness. He had kept his chubbiness through age, and it was first time they saw each other naked… but though he gave an insecure smile, and kind of trembled when sitting in the border, this all felt so natural.

Crowley smiled at him, and lifted from the water enough to kiss him. Nice and soft.  
The kiss kept on, even through breaths. Without even thinking, Crowley kept kissing, just adding some bariety…  
He kissed his chin, and back to his mouth, and around his mouth.  
And down his neck, slowly, and his belly…  
He pressed a bit with his head, and Aziraphale did recline back. He noticed something was odd.

“what… are you…?” He didn’t have time to finish. Crowley was kissing him there.  
And liking, and…  
“Aaahh!”  
Crowley’s mouth took his full dick in. and slowly bobbed up and down.  
He felt it turn bigger and harder within.  
He tried to go nice and easy, getting comfy on his knees, on the bank under water. He looked up clumsily, one hand caressing his leg and his back, fearing he might be doing it bad…  
But Aziraphale was new at this too, and it was the best he had.  
Crowley kept going, trying to use his tounge and lips, and play with preasure, and concentrate on the tip…  
And soon he had Aziraphale’s moans all over him, and his hand on his hair, caressing, grasping, …signaling a rithm.  
Crowley followed it as best he could.   
“oh, Crowley… Crowley… oh…!” Aziraphale leaned back, and slowly rested on the floor of the bathroom, taking the whole thing to a new angle.  
Crowley readjusted, holding onto his thigs, and kept shucking and moving his head.

Aziraphale moaned and gasped, and called his name, merged with other unintengible words, and his gasps became more urgent as he started rocking his hips a bit, as he came closer to that wave, to the rhythm of Crowley’s head…  
He came with a throaty shouth, and the other boy nearly jumped backwards, coughing.  
Crowley spit part of it, and gulped, and tried to get used to the sensation, and the taste…  
It was not good. …But man, it was worth it.  
He cleaned himself a couple of times with the nice, soapy water around him, and he climbed back out, and lied next to Aziraphale. The blonde was breathing heavily, still coming back from his high.   
He did look at Crowley soon, shock and pleasure still on his face.  
“you ok?” Aziraphale smiled, and let go a throaty laugh.  
“Oh, I am great! How’r you?”  
Crowley smiled back. “peachy”

They both laid there laughing, and kissed and caressed each other.  
They talked over nothing, and when Aziraphale was feeling adventurous again, he tried something.  
He pointed to the fountain with his bare hand.  
“…accio” he said, concentrating in a good amount of the soap coming from one of the taps.  
A part of it landed on his hand, and Aziraphale smiled at Crowley, feeling very proud.  
Crowley was impressed. In the school, not many students dared try wandless magic, not out of casual exercises, those things get normalized after school life (if ever)  
‘and people like my father think mudbloods are no decent withards…’ he tried not to think of all of this***  
Aziraphale gestured towards him, and Crowley nodded, and tried to relax. They placed closer in the floor, Aziraphale half crouched over him, his legs spreaded, His hand between his thigs…  
And there was pressure, and embarrassment, as Aziraphale carefully reached inside him, searching for something, all the while looking at each other’s faces…

Suddenly Crowley opened wide his eyes and mouth.   
Aziraphale smiled, and went deeper, more insistent, right there.  
Crowley moaned, and dropped his head back, and looked the other side.  
Aziraphale got more comfortable, closer over him, and added more fingers, all the time watching his expression. 

“AAh! Ah! Ah…!!” Crowley gasped again and again with each movement of the blonde’s fingers and hand, and he kept adding more movement, and more pressure. It was Odd, how Crowley was the only one being pleasured, but both where so aroused, it felt so good on both sides.  
Aziraphale came closer, as he found a nice pace and movement, three fingers deep to the knuckles inside Crowley, and he started grinding against Crowley, following the rhythm.  
“Ah ah! Azira…! Azira! Ah ah!...”  
Crowley came so good, a loud groan right out, and Aziraphale kept grinding right into him.  
There was no penetration, But Crowley curled around him, and molded to his body and his trusts, and soon both boy were spent.

It felt so good. Much more than imagined. Like they didn’t need anything else in the world.  
“…angel” came out, between breaths.

 

*Not a clue who the fuck won.  
**Quite usefull for two horny lovers.  
***His father was so grong, and Aziraphale was a great wizard, …but he was abouth to do the nasty to him, so… yeah.


	12. Family and friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hardcore stuff happens between the matress and the lake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what is going to happen in this story, but i had two different ideas of what to do with this chapter and didn't know wich one to use, so i hope you like how it came out.

Beeing both very talented wizards, they managed to find ways to spend many nights in the prefect’s bathroom* playing in the water, or having nice chats and swims… and going at it like rabbits.  
They were in that fase.

As they improved in the arts of sex, seduction and romanticism, less known as enemies they were in public.  
This was a fact. No matter how “hard” they tried to pretend otherwise.  
They where both in too much of a good mood, and could barely hide their happiness** with each other.

It was the longest summer vacations of their lives.

And it was much worse, when they met again. Specially when Crowley found the Room of Requirement.

Oh, boy.

He dragged Aziraphale to the lonely corridor in a moment when no one was around, and stood staring at a wall, smiling like a devil.  
“So?” Aziraphale asked.  
“well” he smiled “where would you like to be?”  
“uh?” Aziraphale liked and bit his lip a moment, thinking. “well, I am with you. …It would be nice to be in a confy place where no one can interrupt us…”  
“somewhere intimate, then.” said Crowley “with a bit of luxury, and a nice ambient, and…”  
He had a clear idea in his head.

The door appeared for them, and Crowley had to impulse Aziraphale to walk in.  
There was a fountain, similar to the one in the prefect’s bathroom, but with wine.  
On the floor, there were arabic-like decorations, complete with the matress and cushions in the floor. Mirrors covering the walls, a wide bathtub with lights and bubbles*** and by the matress, a nice set of something sweet to eat.

Aziraphale was still looking around in awe when Crowley had shed all of his clothes and jumped into the bed-couch in the floor, and was looking at him with a seductive look, while trying the dates.

Aziraphale gave him a look that said ‘you likeable bastard’ and took off his clothes while walking up to him. And kneeling in with him.

Crowley contemplated him, and held a date in his teeth for him.  
…when Aziraphale went for it he took it in and closed his mouth. After a beat he made an encouraging gesture, and they shared a kiss, and a date.

Crowley hungrily clung to him and rode him, moving a lot, sensually, using every muscle between his pelvis and his shoulders…and some others, like he was dancing.  
Aziraphale couldn’t help to think of the serpent he was.  
Then they spooned for a bit, and Crowley slowly warmed up until he was topping from behind.  
After, he showered his lover in kisses, and laid him with carasses. Soo, (too soon, apparently) He attempted to ignit him again with bites and carases that traveled down south…

“No.” Aziraphale tried to stop him. Crowley kissed him sweetly and then kept kissing lower…  
“Crowley” Aziraphale tried to lift him, but the toned boy insisted harder.  
Ariraphale had to jank him from his penis, producing a pop. He carased his hair.  
“Sorry my dear but… can’t you wait, and rest for a bit?” they laid down carefully   
“Easy… there. There’s a good lad…” Crowley soon felt a bit cold and crept closer to him, his head on Aziraphale’s chest.

Nearby, appeared a small fire; providing reassurance more than anything.

“I understand you are stressed…” Aziraphale caressed his lover’s hair absently. “my dear, what does bother you?”  
“Nothing”  
“don’t be like that… what happened?”  
“Nothing happened. Nothing out of the usual! …dun’ want to talk ‘bout it”  
“It use to make you very upset… “  
“Yeah, it’s true. See, they know nothing, but they don’t see me like number one anymore. Just as son of my father… but I don’t give a fuck. And I am alright. So that’s it”  
“… and your father… ?”  
“…” Crowley let go a beat “My father what?”  
“I dunno… what does he say? What did you tell him?”

Crowley muzzled Aziraphale’s chest like an animal that needs reasurement.

“…he… he wanted something” … “and I don’t. we argued”  
“I am sorry”  
“it was just an argument” Crowley’s voice didn’t tremble. But Crowley noticed it could if he kept talking. Aziraphale noticed too.  
“It is important to you. I am sorry”

Aziraphale caressed Crowley’s arms and back, and the slim boy clung to him nearly trembling. He nearly whimpered too. All Azirraphale could do was hold him tight and caress him.   
He wanted to do more.

The geese came back. They either remembered them, or were used to the feeding treatment.  
When Crowley dropped the bag of bread, they rushed to eat before the others, being very inconsiderate with the boy.

His brother was there. And Nerea. And one of their friends. The one who kept joking about a secret Girlfriend… Ligur. Right.

“What are you two doing all alone, here?”  
“they must be playing” solved Nerea “right, dear?”

Crowley didn’t answer. What could he say?

“…yes” there.

“and you didn’t tell us! Oh, man!”  
Hastur spoke up. “I think he wants the blondie all for his own”  
“well, but Crowley, you haven’t been performing properly lately! Even Nerea here, is going to break with you”  
“shut up!”  
“Sorry, doll. Someone had to tell him”

Crowley couldn’t care less “ow” he said. He though if maybe he could pretend to feel hurt and get away…

“Why don’t we give her a show, so she will stay?” Ligur smiled broadly “I think the occasion is worth it. If we all say we were somewhere else, he can’t blame us”  
Crowley’s eyes were stuck on Hastur.  
“I think your friend has a point, Crowley. Lets have fun”

Ligur drew out his wand, but Dagur held him back with one hand.  
“Crowley, make the honors”

Crowley just stood there. He didn’t even take his wand.   
Hastur took his instead. He went to cast a very simple spell against Aziraphale.

He could defend himself, but it wasn’t necessary. Crowley drew his wand out fast, and performed protego.

Ligur and Nerea were confused. “what…” she said, but they were not really there. Neither Aziraphale, probably.

This was Crowley and his brother.  
Hastur drew an angry/disgusted face, and threw one spell after the other. Crowley rejected them one after the other, but slowly, he kept backing up.  
Aziraphale sent a patronus against Hastur. It took the full shape of a snake, and jumped mouth open against Hastur’s neck.  
It didn’t hurt. But it destabilized him.  
Hastur was shocked. Crowley was shocked.  
Ligur and Nerea gasped. They were shocked too.   
None of them had ever seen a full body patronus.

...and it looked like Crowley.  
This, only Crowley knew, but it made him eager, for Aziraphale, for what they had.  
And shoving it in the face of Hastur for all the time he…

Ligur joined the fight. He despised being left aside. He attacked openly Aziraphale.  
Nerea was lost. Utterly lost and confused. In front of her, the cool boy from last year was attacking his (ex?), who was cool but not so cool lately… while his friend, a cool guy… was being clearly beaten by the scum that was that fat boy from the house of loosers!?   
This could not be!

She attempted a spell against Aziraphale. He waved it aside and threw her away with the ease one throws a rag doll of the table. He kept cornering Ligur, leaving Hastur all for Crowley.

Crowley was going down. He had to move like he was dancing and still loose ground.  
Sweating, he stepped on a rock and fell backwards.  
Aziraphale backed him up. Hastur was a better adversary…  
Ligur saw it as a chance. He was wrong.

Hardly, but surely, Aziraphale handed both attractants without loosing his place.  
Crowley got up, and performed an easy, jet rough move: leviosa over a rock.  
…and onto Ligur’s forehead.

Hastur was not fully conscient of his situation: he was offended. He performed reducto towards Aziraphale, with all of his strength. The fat boy avoided it successfully, but noticing how aggressive the move had been, and casted stupefy.  
…at the same time Crowley sent an expelliarmous.

Both spells flew together, nearly blending like one and hit him full under the chest.  
Hastur flew across the lake, still in the air when his leg hit a tree, and crushed rolling through the dirt and bushes, until he collided with another tree.

He didn’t move. Everyone stood silent. Only Nerea gasped and took a hand to her mouth.  
She couldn’t believe what had happened.

Next to the lake, on the same spot they had been spotted, Aziraphale and Crowley stood together.

Hastur got up the best he could, and tried to walk up to them. He refused to recognize he had been defeated this roughly. He still wanted to fight. No. He wanted to beat them both bastards. He barely managed to reach the lake again… and his opponents were still holding their wands. He had lost his in the fall.

“Nerea!” Crowley spoke to her with venom. She didn’t understand. Was he angry with her…or just at them all for some reason? “I leave you. If we were ever really a thing at all, which I am not sure of”

She stood in the floor. Unable to process, and then got out of there.  
Next was Ligur. He was awake. He watched all with wide eyes. Now he took a hand to his forehead, and noticed the blood dripping down his head. He tried to get up… and could not. So he decided to stay there, and rest.

Hastur just stood there. Confused due to the spell. Blind due to his broken pride.

Aziraphale and Crowley left him alone in the lake. They had the humanity of dragging Ligur to the nursery, and explain what had happen. 

 

*Crowley used his snake form. Aziraphale perfected apparition. Crowley went as far as to put poison the other’s prefect’s drinks and some of the teachers, to make sure they had the bathroom for their own.  
**and willingness to go behind a corner as soon as no one was watching.  
***No need to miss anything from their previous fuck-point.


	13. Shit up to the neck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley has trouble with his daddy

All of them lost at least 15 points for being involved*  
The boys were all punished, and their families where informed.

The father of the Crowley brothers came in person to collect his son…for a few days.  
Dagon didn’t speak to his youngest son before they left by flu powder. 

Aziraphale felt like he was being ripped in two, slowly.  
He didn’t want Crowley to leave with this terrifying man, who had hurt him so many times, and would keep doing it. But he could do nothing.  
His own father was a reasonable man, and he was being very compressive because Aziraphale usually didn’t get into trouble, but he waved apart Aziraphle’s stories of Dagon being way too mean to his son.

Dagon stepped into his home from the fireplace, and slapped his youngest son across the face with the back of his hand. He didn’t usually employ physic abuse as a punishment, but he was very disappointed. And very furious.

“WHAT. WHERE. YOU. THINKING. If you were thinking at all”  
Crowley wasn’t even wondering if he was bleeding from his nose.  
“I want you to explain everything that happened. Don’t you dare leave one detail out and don’t you dare to lie”  
Crowley would have to leave out many details. Everything that involved Aziraphale. It was a lot. He was calculating when Hastur spoke spitting to his face** 

“He has made FRIEENDS with that mudblood. And he attacked me and that Carrow boy, and the black girl to defend him”  
“I didn’t…” He was cut with another slap from his father.  
“Anything you do in support of a mudblood, and anything you do against a pureblooded one is an offense to our NAME!!”  
Crowley cringed. Just a little bit. Two slaps from his father in a row. Bad omens.

“This is not new” Dagon growled “sadly, I saw it coming. You have been turning away from your duties to this family…”

Not this again. Crowley wanted none of such ‘duties’ …

“You don’t understand! We are not like the rest. We have the privilege to belong to a higher class. You were born in this family, son. That is a fact. And as such, you have duties, and privileges… you just have to clear yourself of any other nonsense and distractions, and you will be influential, and…!”

‘…bring pride and prosperity to the family, and have the favor of the other members of the glorious clan we all belong to… and blah blah…’ Crowley hoped he would be over soon, so he could crawl back into his room and rest, and forget all of it ‘till next time…

“…so. Today is the day. It’s come the time for you, my son”  
“what?”   
“I will not wait any longer for you to mature. I think what you need is a responsibility. A real job”  
“…oh. …What kind of job?”  
“Your first great job. Your initiation“

Oh shit

“…already?”  
“yes”  
“like… this week?” he had hoped it would happen after school…  
“Like now. Today”

Crowley was in shock. He couldn’t really say nothing until he saw Ligur’s father coming across the door. Shit. It was the initiation.

“but…!” he tried to make an excuse. But of course, it was a desperate, fruitless try. Dagon wouldn’t have it.  
“You have offended this family enough. And what is worst. Another family of the sacred 28!”  
Ligur’s father nodded.  
“It is only fair that you serve them, in this, your first service to the clan”  
Oh fuck.

Crowley looked at the man. He looked kind of like his father.  
“I already have an idea, Dagon, if you allow me” he said and Dagon listened closely.  
Crowley listened as well. There were different versions of the initiation. But, eventually, all included the service at some point: he had to prove himself useful and loyal to the sacred 28.  
Whatever Mr. Carrow asked, he would have to oblige. 

“it is a big responsibility, but given the circumstances, I believe it’s appropriate… That he avenges my son, and your brother, and proves where that mudblood who was involved, belongs…”  
Aziraphale  
“I think is a wonderful idea. That way he can also get that distraction off his path…”  
And his father, of course, agreed.   
They wanted him to harm Aziraphale.

“…what do you say, son?” Dagon’s voice sounded appropriate, nearly polite. But his expression left no doubt. It said ‘you better not embarrass me now, boy’  
Crowley looked around. But this was ‘home’ there was no one he could turn to for support. No where he could run to and feel safe. His own mother, sitting at a table nearby, so silent and (as usual) rigid he hadn’t noticed her before, expected his acceptance.

“if he doesn’t, I swear…”   
“Hastur, enough. This is Crowley’s job”  
Crowley snapped out of it, and he performed a polite bow.  
“yes, father. It will be an honor” and for good measure, he added “Mr. Carrow, sir. I’m sorry for what happened. I assure you it was not my intention…”

Dagon smiled, complied. Crowley’s mother breathed deeply and lifted her chin, proud.  
Ligur’s father nodded. “I am sure, boy. So. You won’t mind gibing me your word, to make it official…”  
“is the least we can do” Said Dagon.  
“very well. Shall we begin…”

It took Crowley a few moments to realize what they were talking of now. But when he did, he paled.

He was being asked to swear it. With an Unbreakable Vow. 

 

 

*It was a bad day for the Slytherin house  
**Literally. He crouched down and spoke so hard, with such venom and so close to his face I could not write ‘nearly’


	14. Scape to safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> crowley has to find someone who could help... and quicly!

His and Ligur’s father were in the middle of the room. Right in front of him.  
Hastur behind.  
His mother at the side, prepared for assisting them. 

All looked at him expectantly. It was time.  
He doubted, and for that he was already receiving a silent scowl. But he was stuck to the floor.  
Then, he stepped forwards.

“Very good, now hold his hand…”  
Crowley smiled, and very slowly lifted his hand…  
But before touching the other, he concentrated.  
…and aparated in other room.

The others were left looking at nothing. The first one to react was his mother. She screamed like someone had been shot in the head. She knew what had just happened*  
Crowley listened her from the other floor. He appeared right in front of another one of the many fireplaces they had, and hurried to lit the fire with magic, and take the flu powder…

Hastur aparated right where he had been.  
“Howarts!” he shouted in terror, and the green fire engulfed him.  
He ran out of the fireplace, to nearly fall all over a table at the three broomsticks, in Hogsmade.  
Damnit! With the nerves, he had not been clear enough…  
Behind him, the fireplace lit in green flames again, and he knew his brother had followed him. 

He barely looked over his shoulder, to see Hastur very furious, stepping towards him with an stretched hand… when he reacted quickly, out of pure survival instinct.  
He apparated far away, in front of the metal door wich separated the ladns of the castle from the outside, where the path lead to Hogsmade.  
He felt light-headed, for it was first time he apparated in such a long distance, and outside training, just out of instant necessity.

He breathed deeply and concentrated in his next goal: just the other side of the metal barrets, where he could simply walk towards the castle…**  
He had done just that when he heard a crack in the wind.  
Hastur looked at him from behind the door bars.

Crowley deduzed very fast that Hastur must have known a way to track his apparitions…  
And as fast as he could he apparated again. Now he was in the middle of the path uphill, to the castle. He started walking at fast pace, while reuning his strength to…

Now he was in front of the principal door. He knew his brother must be close behind, tracking the last spot. He apparated on the other side.  
Now he was at the hall. This time, he concentrated really hard. He had done this before… he could…

He was on his room, at the Slytherin quarters. He wanted to run under the bed, but before he did, he had an instant idea…  
He apparated again, this time outside the door… and he ran inside and under the bed as fast as he could.  
He even clasped his hand over his mouth and held his breath…

With another snap in the air, a pair of expensive shoes, together with black trousers and a cape appeared in front of him. They stood there a moment. Crowley was terrified, specially when the shoes turned towards the bed, maybe looking around the bedroom.  
His lungs started hurting, but he held his breath.

With another snap, Hastur disappeared, and Crowley could swear he listened him popping on the other side of the door. Still he could not hold any longer, and let his labored breath catch again.

He laid there, under the bed, gasping for breath and trembling, and then just trembling and trying to relax. He let a long while pass by before he decided to get out and peek his head out the door.  
He had to do this. It was his only choice now. No regrets now.

He ran through the corridors in search for a teacher. He ended up in DADA class, interrupting professor Dumblendore. He would help. He was from griffindor…  
“Sir!” he gasped coming to a stop in front of him “Sir!” I am sorry to interrupt you but this is very much urgent!”  
“My… is it really? Can’t one of your teachers assist you?”  
“No, sir! Please, I need to talk to the director… but I don’t know how to get there! And this can not wait…  
The professor held his gaze for a few moments, thinking… and then he nodded and started walking towards the door.  
“I will be back soon and I hope to find the room not too different of how it is as I leave”  
He stated.

Crowley followed him up to a statue of a griffon, and indicated Crowley to stay in front of it, with him, like the space was an elevator.  
He muttered the password “bowtruckle” and with a gesture of his hands, Crowley discovered it was, indeed, an elevator.

Crowley found himself now in front of a door to a new room. Odd murmurs coming from within. Dumblendore encouraged him with a gesture. Crowley did feel kind of safe with the DADA teacher, so he just crossed the door.

There was a base with an strange bird-like lizard nesting to his right. A galapago tortoise passing by not far in front of him, and shelves and more shelves with books, all class of odd things (some dried, others in jars…) and animals. Within the shelves.  
Crowley nearly forgot how scared he was.  
He walked in, and around the tortoise, and up to the table… where there was no one.  
“hold on a moment” Dumblendore walked up to the side of the table, were there was an old travel case flat on the floor, and knocked on it like it was a door.  
After a minute or so, the case opened on its own, and Mr. Scamander came out from it.

Crowley got to see there was quite the depth down the stairs in the magic case, and sounds of animals coming from it. He himself had never been so good with animals, he preferred plants.

 

*Crowley had betrayed them. Now for real. In front of their guest, whom he had offended, he now refused the initiation. This was such a disgrace for the entire family.  
(they all would have to serve the other families until they accomplished a proper compensation…)  
**Where he felt safe.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a remake of a longer version i wrote (for a lifetime) and wich i'm planing to delete...


End file.
